A Night Out
by soultoast
Summary: Spike and Drusilla enjoy a night out.


Title: A Night on the Town

Author: Soultoast a.k.a. Alice

Rating: PG-13 for death

Pairing: Spike/Drusilla

Summary: Everyone has different ideas about a night out…

Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own any of these characters!

Author's Note: This was written as a "thank you" for oddsketcher. You freaking rock, eh!

Author's Note 2: The song used is "Stormy Weather," written in 1933, composer Harold Arlen and lyricist Ted Koehler. Has been sung by, well, everyone from Billie Holliday and Ella Fitzgerald to Frank Sinatra and Joni Mitchell.

* * *

_Boston, Massachusetts, 1953_

Lately, sleep had been proven elusive for Spike. For the past month, Drusilla had been plagued by nightmares that he couldn't calm easily. Usually, around one or two in the afternoon, she would drift off into a deep sleep while he remained alert, watching her, waiting for any sign of panic. Last night, she had slept soundly, while Spike had dropped into a near coma from exhaustion.

Stretching, Spike slowly awoke from his relaxing slumber, clearing his brown curls from his forehead. His eyes popped open in alarm; not only was Drusilla missing from their bed, but it was late- well after sunset. Flying out of the bed, he charged through the doorway and downstairs into the living room of the old mansion. As his eyes scanned the room, a distinct odor hit his nostrils: Drusilla's favored perfume, along with blood bathed in fear. His stomach growled in response. Following the scent, Spike wandered charged into the kitchen.

"Who's in the cellar with Dru?" Spike growled, surprising a demon servant named Harris- or was it Henry? Spike didn't bother with its name.

"Um, no one Master-." Moving like quicksilver, he crossed the room and grabbed the green demon by his throat, pale fingers crushing the windpipe.

"Drusilla is down there, I can smell her you idiot. Now, tell me who is down there with her," he ordered, squeezing the windpipe tighter to punctuate his words.

"She told me not to tell you that she went out hunting," the demon wheezed, arms flailing helplessly. Spike stilled his movements as he heard Drusilla's light footsteps coming up the stairs. Cracking open the door, she called to him.

"Spike you should be getting dressed. I want to play tonight but I needed a snack." He could hear the pout in her voice.

"Sorry, luv; I didn't get an invitation," he replied, dropping the demon. He crossed over to the cellar door only to have Drusilla pull it shut.

"Silly Spike, it was on the mirror. Go get dressed, my love. We're going out," she called, her voice fading as she walked down the stairs again.

Staring in the mirror, Spike straightened his tie. He didn't really care for suits anymore, particularly the bland, black and white suits favored by the men of the 1950's. However, the invitation written in Drusilla's delicate script, propped against the mirror (broken by Drusilla) read "Formal attire." He wore a cobalt-blue velvet waistcoat, matched by dark sapphire cufflinks and a cravat, its pin sapphire as well. The suit was new, sewn by a tailor a few months ago in Dublin. After the suit was finished, Spike had fed from the elderly gentlemen as opposed to paying.

Following the written instruction, Spike waited until seven p.m. before heading into the foyer. After waiting only a few seconds, Drusilla glided into the room. A breath Spike had needlessly sucked in stuck in his chest; his dark princess was beautiful. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face, gleaming curls brushing her neck and framing her face. She wore a blue silk gown that made her blue eyes sparkle.

"Mmm… my Spike looks so yummy- almost as yummy as dinner." Spike raised an eyebrow as he swaggered over to her. Gently, he grasped her hand and raised it to his mouth. Turning her hand over, he placed and open-mouthed kiss on her wrist, flicking his tongue the veins that no longer held a pulse.

"Nothin' looks better than me. I see you're feeling better, Dru." She smiled, turning in a circle.

"Oh yes. I woke up and the stars were being so helpful. Miss Edith said you were tired and I shouldn't wake you up," she said, caressing Spike's cheekbones. "But I was so hungry," she purred.

Spike hungrily captured her lips with his. It had been so long since she'd been herself. The kiss heated, until Drusilla gently pushed him away. "No, Spike. I want to go out and play."

He smirked. "That's my girl."

* * *

Spike led Drusilla to a small blues club called "The Mill." It was nice enough, and was located in a basement- perfect for Spike's plans. Tonight he wanted Drusilla to enjoy herself. They ducked down an alley and knocked on a door. A tall man of indiscernible ethnicity answered their knock, judged them appropriately dressed, and allowed them entrance. The narrow, dim staircase opened into a small but fashionable club, lit dimly in blue lights. The far wall was dominated by a curtained stage while the near wall held the bar. Round tables lit with candles were scattered around the edges of a small dance floor.

Seating Drusilla at a corner table, Spike left her to grab their drinks; red wine for Drusilla, a double Jack Daniels for him. He returned to see her swaying, listening to the music and studying the other patrons.

"_Don't know why_

_There's no sun up in the sky_

_Stormy weather…"_

She smiled. "I like this song. It's wrapped up in pain and hides the sun." Spike laughed.

"So who d'you fancy, Dru?" Her smile widened as she scanned the humans; her eyes rested on a tall, attractive man seated in the other corner with a plain woman.

"They look yummy, Spike. Can I have them?"

"'Course. Anything for my Princess." Spike grasped her hand, pulling her from the table. Skirting around tables, they approached the couple.

"Hello, mind if my girl and I join you?" Spike asked, a pleasant smile on his face. Gone was the lazy drawl he usually spoke with. The man glanced at the woman, who hid behind a sheet of pale-gold hair. She nodded, smiling at Spike and Drusilla.

"I'm William, and this is my girl, Drusilla," Spike announced, seating Drusilla and then himself.

"I'm David, and this is my fiancée, Ella." The men shook hands, fingers gripping firmly is a small battle for dominance. Spike turned his blue eyes to the thin blonde.

"So, do you work?" he asked, taking a drink; he usually left the men to Drusilla.

Ella nodded. "Yes, I'm a maternity nurse."

"Get paid to play with little ones all day?" He laughed in good humor, giving Ella one of his patented seduction gazes. She stared into his eyes, blushing slightly. She glanced quickly at David, only to see that he was engrossed with Drusilla. Ella smiled.

Drusilla smiled coyly at David, who watched her- he was tall, broad shouldered, and his blood smelled delicious. Drusilla sipped her wine; it was an old yet favored game. As soon as Spike stroked her cheek, Drusilla would stand.

"What is your work?" she asked softly, staring into his eyes. David's eyes softened, losing their focus.

"I'm an accountant," he whispered, entranced.

"Do the numbers confuse you, tie you up with lies?"

"Yes," he replied, nodding. Drusilla smiled.

"Those wicked numbers," she sighed, "Trying to trap you."

"Yes, I suppose," he replied, partially confused, partially dazed. Spike reached out and brushed a lock of Drusilla's hair behind her ear, his finger lingering along her cheek.

"Where is the ladies room?" she asked, standing. David's gaze never left her form as he followed suit and stood.

"It's, ah, down the hall."

Drusilla smiled; "Could you show me where, please?"

David didn't answer and instead started walking. Drusilla followed him towards the bathrooms, a grin lighting her face. He said nothing, instead choosing to occasionally glance back at her with a look of blatant adoration. They stopped before the bathroom door, but Drusilla didn't go in.

"Could we have some alone time?" she asked, glancing up at him through her dark eyelashes with guileless eyes. Following her shifting gaze to a broom closet, David nodded dumbly. This time, Drusilla led the way, opening the closet door and entering first. He didn't remember deciding to follow, but the next thing he knew, David was in the dark closet with the intoxicating stranger, the door closed. She leaned against him, resting her head on his chest.

"Mm… your heart sounds so pretty," she purred. She reached a hand up and stroked his cheek, brushing her fingertips against his lips. "Smell pretty, too. Miss Edith will be jealous not to meet you."

"Who?" he muttered. Drusilla rose onto her tiptoes, pressing her face into his neck.

"My friend; the stars talk to her too, sometimes." Even in his haze of lust and confusion, a warning crept into his mind. But before he could ask anything else, a cool hand clamped across his mouth as a searing pain started in his throat. Panic set in as he tried to escape, but the small woman held him still. After a few seconds he started to feel cold. The last thing he saw was a pair of golden eyes glowing as he fell to the floor.

Sated, Drusilla left the closet, shutting the door behind her. Usually she liked to play with her food, but Spike told her that sometimes it was best to be quick about it. He also taught her that sometimes she needed to be neat so no one would find her. Smiling, she walked back towards the dark corner table, where the girl sat slumped against Spike, who was sipping Drusilla's wine.

"She's very quiet," Drusilla observed with a smile, sitting down.

Spike smirked; "Yeah, deathly silent, luv. Here, got something for you."

"Oh, what?" He handed her wine to her. The scent hit her before she even took a drink; Spike had put some of Ella's blood in it. She drained the glass and set it down. "Now what will we do?"

"Make music."

"Oh, we get to make them sing?" Spike nodded, resting the girl's corpse against the wall.

"C'mon, let's go." He stood and walked towards the staircase, pausing at the end of the bar. When the bartender got distracted, Spike leaded over the bar and grabbed four bottles of alcohol. Hiding in the darkness of the staircase, he quickly fashions Molotov cocktails. He lit them, and in rapid succession, threw them around the room. They exploded into flames and patrons screamed and the bar was quickly engulfed in flames. Spike and Drusilla quickly ran up the stairs, the bouncer racing down past them to see what was happening. The two vampires burst through the door, where Spike wheeled a dumpster in front of the door.

Drusilla giggled and spun under the stars as people pounded on the door, screaming.

"They sing so pretty." Spike smiled; he loved seeing his dark princess so happy. Grabbing her arm, he spun her into his embrace and started dancing with her. Smoke billowed from the building, washing over the sky and darkening the stars.

Taking an unneeded breath, he started singing.

"_Oh yeah  
Life is bare  
Gloom and misery everywhere  
Stormy weather, stormy weather…"_


End file.
